


Habitual

by higgity_heck



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Falling In Love, Flirting, M/M, One Shot, Ship Tease, Sort Of, first fic ever posted please be nice, no beta we die like men, testing the waters with these characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-11-02 07:09:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20663273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/higgity_heck/pseuds/higgity_heck
Summary: Caleb was a creature of habit - the dome, the wire, the arm scratching, the constant running.So they met in the library, as had become the habit.





	Habitual

**Author's Note:**

> hi, first fic I’ve ever actually published so I’m nervous. any constructive criticism is welcome, more fic based on this ship will be coming so stay on the lookout.

They spent hours in the library together, as had become the habit.

  
The room had transformed in the few months they had been staying there (the Xhorhaus, as it had been suitably titled). What had once been a bare, dusty crypt empty enough to make any librarian weep had filled, gradually, with whatever literature Caleb could get his hands on; alchemy texts, historical tomes Beau pretended she wasn’t interested in, arcane literature, Jester’s erotica, and a few small books of pressed flowers. The mantle of the fireplace was now decorated with an assortment of Nott’s knick-knacks and keepsakes, next to the chaotic order of Yeza and hers shared alchemy lab.

  
It was a beautiful room, one that Caleb was quite proud of, thank you very much. But it wasn’t the room he was focused on, to be honest, or even the spellbook full of dunamancy spells in front of him he would have given his right arm for just a few months ago.

  
Quite frankly, he found himself more and more commonly distracted by the Shadowhand sitting across from him. Of course, it wasn’t entirely surprising – Essek was a beautiful man, anybody that way inclined would find him absolutely gorgeous (Jester certainly seemed to think so). But really, it was unfair; in the crackling light of the fireplace, the glint in Essek’s eyes seemed just that much brighter, the stark white of his perfectly styled hair more radiant than the Luxon itself.

  
Nevermind the formidable intelligence that roiled and beckoned beneath the surface. Here, Caleb could see an opponent, better yet a _tutor_, who could school him in every way imaginable and never tire of him coming back for more.

  
“…the second half of the gesture takes more precision.”

  
Essek’s voice – smooth and sophisticated, with the distinctive clip to his words all Xhorhassians seemed to have – snapped Caleb out of his reverie. Essek gazed at him curiously, eyes half-lidded and one eyebrow cocked. He could feel himself go red to the ears under that gaze, and quickly averted his eyes.

  
“Is something the matter, Mr Widogast?” Essek questioned innocently, leaning back in his chair and resting an ankle on the opposite knee. Caleb could’ve sworn the slightest trace of a smirk danced on the Shadowhand’s lips, but as usual he was nearly impossible to read.

  
“Ah, no, not at all. I just zoned out, is all,” he stumbled, steadfastly staring at the spellbook in front of him. “I’m sorry, should we begin again?”

  
In the corner of his eye, Essek huffed a silent laugh, and rose to his feet. “It is rather late to be attempting to warp time and space; attempting do so while half-asleep and ‘zoning out’ is a lost cause. We’ll begin fresh another time.”

  
Pushing down the disappointment rising in his throat, Caleb did see the logic in his words. He rose as well, handing back the spellbook, which was promptly vanished away into whatever dimension it lived in.

  
“I’ve been meaning to ask, what is that spell? Is it a pocket dimension that you’re summoning?” He asked as he followed the other man down the stairs, dutifully ignoring Jester when she elbows Nott and points at the two of them. Gods, they were just _talking_.

  
“It is, in fact. Quite observant of you,” Essek smirked with a tilt of his head and an appraising eye, one that momentarily made Caleb forget what his name was.

  
Opening the door for him – and wincing at the loud door chime – Caleb stepped outside, into the eternal darkness of Rhosana. Even after all the time they had spent in the starlit city, part of Caleb always felt a boyish wonder at the artificial night that draped the region like a great shroud.

  
“Well, ah, thank you for your time, Shadowhand,” Caleb tried for a smile, and was met with a surprisingly genuine one in return.

  
Essek stepped closer, ever so slowly. His eyes narrowed, ever so slightly. “The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.”

  
“Is it? I was unaware you enjoyed showing off to me so much,” Caleb countered as sudden bravery surged in his veins. He wanted to _push_, see how far Essek would let him go, how close he could get.

  
The Shadowhand’s brows shot up, one of the most unadulterated gestures Caleb had seen from him. The glint in his eye sharpened.

  
“You could hardly deny me such a simple pleasure, Widogast. It’s not often I get to just sit and preen for a few hours.”

  
_I’m going to imagine you spend a fair amount of time preening, actually,_ Caleb thought as he eyed the other man’s immaculate robes, but he kept it to himself. It wouldn’t do to push too far, too early.

  
Caleb huffed a laugh. “I am already in your debt tenfold, Shadowhand. I’m not in any position to reject you.”

  
“No, not particularly. Which reminds me; I have a proposition for you. One I am sure you wouldn’t want to refuse, regardless.”

  
For a beat, they fell into a comfortable yet loaded silence. The moment stretched, the gap between them growing smaller and smaller until it had all but closed. Caleb could see the gentle rise and fall of Essek’s chest even in the low light, could count the number of lights reflected in his eyes. They looked like the artificial stars hanging over Rosohna.  
_Surely this can’t be going where I think it’s going._

  
“…ja?”

  
“As much as I understand your friends are dear to you, a house full of chaotic mercenaries is not the most… peaceful of places.” From inside, there came a metallic crash, loud swearing from what sounded like Nott and Beau, and further commotion. Essek just raised his eyebrows, the universal gesture for ‘I prove my point.’  
“You’ve been attempting to gain access to the Marble Tomes, yes?”

  
For a moment, Caleb’s heart stopped. He must have shown it on his face, as Essek hurriedly continued.

  
“I’m afraid I can’t grant you that privilege-“ Caleb tried not to let his disappointment show “-but what I can do is offer my personal library to you.”

  
The sorry sting of disappointment in his chest suddenly lifted. Perhaps not the prized tomes of the dynasty, but an entire library and the continued tutelage of a skilled wizard? Caleb could work with that; he’d made do when all he had was a shitty Zadash smut shop.

  
But it wasn’t just the resources and the books – he had enough self-awareness to recognise that. Though he loved the Nein like family, the sessions with Essek gave him something that he couldn’t find anywhere else. There was a part of him that craved it: the casual banter, the long-winded discussions of the nature of space-time, the constant tease of more, always more to come. And maybe he craved the strange dance they did around each other, too. It had been a while since he met someone who could send a shiver up his spine with just a well-calculated look. Even longer since he’d been caught on the shape of someone’s mouth as they spoke, or how it might taste on his.

  
“Essek…” he finally responded, tone dripping with shock. “You would offer me this? Freely?”  
Essek smirked slightly, less condescending and more amused. Hard to read as he was, he looked almost charmed at his reaction. Endeared, even.

  
“Of course. Foreigners you may be, but you’re heroes of the dynasty regardless.”

  
Caleb just stood there in stunned silence, attempting to formulate some sort of response that wouldn’t make him look like a babbling moron. Finally, he reached out and took one of Essek’s hands in both of his own, secretly relishing in the surprise that flitted across the other man’s face. So there was a way to break that composed appearance. Duly noted.

  
“Thank you,” Caleb said, attempting to express every ounce of rapture he felt into those two words. “For this, for your tutelage, for everything. Thank you.”

  
By all means, Caleb expected him to pull away, put his unbothered façade firmly back in place and glide off. According to what he knew of the man himself and Normal Person Social Protocol, that was what he would do.

  
But the hand in his softened to return his grip instead, and his features didn’t school themselves into an amused indifference as he had seen them do many times. Slightly, the corner of his eyes crinkled.

  
“Of course, Mr Widogast. I would do anything to ensure I could continue to preen for hours at a time.”

  
With a small huff of laughter, Caleb finally let go, long after propriety indicated he should have.

  
“I’ll let you go,” he relented. “I’m sure you have matters to attend to.”

  
“That I do. Goodnight, Caleb; until another time.”

  
He spun, and continued out of the property, quickly disappearing into Roshona’s eternal darkness. He continued staring after him, continued even after his human eyes prevented him from seeing anything at all. Another, louder crash echoed from inside the house eventually, indicating he should probably help stop them from bringing the house down.

  
“Caleb, what the fuck are you doin’ out there?” Beau called. “Nevermind, I don’t want to know.”

  
“Your food is going cold,” came Caduceus’s calmer timbre.

  
He sighed softly, and re-entered the light of the Xhorhaus. But the image of softened eyes and the feeling of a warm hand stuck stubbornly in his mind, as would, eventually, become the habit.


End file.
